Here’s a 2021 sonnet:
Shall I compare thee to a bird’s sweet song?
Awakened by the joy of morning light,
For last year’s daily grind hath been too long,
Harsh winds doth shake cold demons of the night.
The nest we crave feels broken and forlorn,
On wings of freedom fallen from the sky,
The shell ofttimes is crushed when we are born,
And souls’ sweet dreams too often left to die.
Full rich and clear your chorus fills the air,
We shall not cease to harken when you call,
And join with voices, loud and clear we dare,
One choral chant to save us from the fall.
Fear not as breath is ever drawn by thee,
Fear not your voice will always set us free.